


Something Mighty Suspicious

by Silvarbelle



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, less than well thought out plans, paranoid heylin lord, treading on thin ice consort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvarbelle/pseuds/Silvarbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack behaves very, very suspiciously and Chase Young has to make a decision on what to do about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Mighty Suspicious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrystallicSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallicSky/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Crayola, Magic Scent E](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/20942) by CrystallicSky. 



Four days ago, Chase Young had done something he hadn’t in a very long time:

He’d fantasized a deep, dark, particularly gory murder of Jack Spicer.

He’d sat cross-legged in his second favorite garden and had imagined white skin darkening with bruises, turning scarlet with blood or the need to breathe as he’d clenched a hand around a slender white neck. He’d seen, in his mind, crimson eyes bright with tears and terror, staring up at him while pleas for mercy fell from soft white lips. Deft, long-fingered hands had clutched and clawed at him; had held braced against him while struggling to keep bones from breaking, flesh from rending, organs from pulping to puddles of pink and red.

In his mind, Chase had reduced his Consort to a bleeding pile of meat. The murder was no less impressive than the one he’d done prior of the faceless, nameless man he was near certain Jack was fucking behind his back.

Why else would Jack suddenly be avoiding him? Why else would the man who’d claimed to have adored him for most of his own life suddenly refuse to spend time with him, refuse to share a bed with him? Why else would Jack suddenly require several showers a day? Why _else_ would Jack, who normally preferred to stay inside the palace, leave on unspecified errands at different times – as if he had to accommodate someone else’s time table?

Someone other than his lord and lover.

A new fantasy had been made every day since then: Day Three, Day Two…. Chase felt, with each new wound he mentally dug into the imagined form of his Consort, that he was trapped in a countdown toward an inevitable unhappy ending. 

Chase didn’t know what was worse: that the ending was happening or that he’d not seen it coming at all.

 

*~*~*~*

 

There he was.

Chase sat perfectly, preternaturally still in the darkness as he watched his prey move through the room. Once Spicer had come far enough, without moving a muscle, Chase willed every candle and torch in the room to flare with fire.

In the abrupt light, Jack froze with a strangled squeak of sound. He looked petrified, guilty, and Chase endured the whiplash struggle against his own need to destroy that ugly evidence.

From his seat at the head of the dining table, he watched as Jack located him. He watched as Jack attempted an air of nonchalance as if this were a chance meeting between two old _friends_.

Certain of his control, Chase smiled at the younger man. It was a cold, dark thing he hadn’t given Jack in a very long time. 

“Hello, Spicer,” he murmured, pleasant and terrifying if Jack’s nervous twitch was anything to go by. “Why don’t you sit with me a while?”

As expected, Jack fidgeted and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Uh… actually, I was – _am_ – kinda tired, so I’m just heading back up to my room—“

_His_ room.

Not _Chase’s_ room, but _his_ room.

The unwelcome reminder of the separation dropped the smile from Chase’s face. Cold, furious, he snarled, “ _Sit. Down._ ”

Jack did so with alacrity that was both gratifying and infuriating. He settled into a seat at the middle of the long table and smiled with nervous energy at his master as he babbled his enthusiasm for doing sitting with the older man.

Chase’s jaws and gums _ached_ with the need to flash a mouthful of fangs at the display of pandering. He restrained himself; smiled again and suggested, “I’m glad to hear that. I had thought we might... talk for a bit.”

His enhanced eyesight brought him the new tension in Jack’s body as muscles stiffened warily. Jack’s sour sweat was a nasty stench in his nose as he asked, “Okay… um… what about?”

Chase casually crossed one leg over the other at the knee and looked at the young man seated five chairs away from him. He thought of how easy it would be to leap across the distance between them and crush Spicer’s traitorous throat to pulp even as he said, “Oh, I suppose nothing in particular. It seem as though it’s been a while since we’ve spent any time together.”

Jack licked his lips, his anxiety palpable. Chase tracked the flick of that pink tongue automatically. It had been days since he’d felt it on his skin, on his cock. _Who_ was feeling it in his stead? Who was Jack tasting these days?

A guilty expression marred the white features. A tinge of pink had flushed Jack’s cheeks and throat; even his forehead. The color wasn’t as vibrant as usual. Perhaps his traitorous Consort didn’t feel all that guilty.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, “it has been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry, I’ve just been kinda busy lately—“

“Perhaps it has something to do with wherever you’ve been going so frequently?” Chase suggested. He was in no mood to listen to placating excuses.

Jack froze, wide-eyed and guilty. His body language screamed PREY! and TERROR! and it was all Chase could do to remain seated.

“I’ve been home,” Jack answered after taking a deep breath. “Mom’s back from her trip to London.”

The ease with which the words came meant that everything Jack had said was true. That didn’t mean the two statements were _connected_ to each other. Chase knew full well Jack had learned the trick of obfuscation in deference to him. Chase hated being lied to by those within his domain. He expected it from enemies, but not from those he claimed as his own. Jack had learned to tell the truth but to avoid stitching those truths together that would form a line that could trip him up later.

Then again, Jack knew how much Chase hated being lied to by those he claimed as his own – and Jack, until recently, had invested most of himself in making his lord and lover happy.

Chase frowned. Which was it? Was Jack giving him some of the truth or all of the truth?

“How is Sylvia?” he asked, deciding to give Spicer enough rope to hang himself with.

“Uh… fine? Good; she’s good. You know how she is. She misses me, still. I think she wants me to move back in, but I’m good here.”

Then again, perhaps all he was doing was giving Jack enough rope to lash his _master_ with.

“Are you certain you don’t want to?”

“What?”

Chase laced his fingers together and settled them over his right knee. It was that or let the scales and claws come out. If that happened, Jack would never be put back together again.

“Move back home,” he clarified for the younger man. “You’ve been going so often and, when you _are_ here, I don’t seem to see you anymore. If you miss living there so very much, perhaps it’s better if you did move back in with her?”

Jack stared at him with obvious alarm. Chase struggled for his control and he _hated_ it. His control was precious to him, but that Jack was able to strip him of it so easily meant that Spicer was even more precious. That he’d apparently given a lying, cheating traitor that much of him _galled_ him.

“No,” Jack muttered. His tone was pure; true. “What are you talking about? I’m your Consort. I live with you.”

“Hmm,” Chase murmured. “So you do.”

Jack’s brows snapped together in a scowl as he demanded to know, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Chase ignored the insolent tone. Jack had made it clear that, while he idolized the dragon lord, he’d _never again_ be a simpering dolt that would fawn and flatter him with courtly speech. That was fine.

What _wasn’t_ fine was Jack’s apparent _treason_ against him.

“Oh, nothing,” Chase goaded, striking with words to find Jack’s weak spot. “Though, as you are my Consort, I’ve noticed a distinct _lack_ of fulfilling your duties lately.”

The younger man stared at him, offended and hurt. “So, what – now I’m not a good enough _fucktoy_ for you?”

Chase let his claws extend; dug them into his own knee where Jack couldn't see them. He wasn't... he would discover the truth. _Then_ he would deal with Spicer's crime against him.

"The duties of a Consort are to provide sex _and_ companionship – neither of which I've seen from you the last few days," he reminded Jack with a touch of spite. "When you're not finding some excuse to avoid being in a room with me, you've begged off my _bed_ with headaches."

Jack glared at him. "Sorry – I didn't realize 'not getting headaches' was part of my job description!"

"Four headaches in as many days?" Chase countered, his temper rising fast and hot. He bared his teeth at Spicer. "And two days before that was simply fleeing my presence! No... four headaches in as many days seems _unlikely_ , Jack. Even if they are true, a mere headache should not have rendered my very presence abhorrent to you—or have I been imagining you sleeping in an entirely separate room these last few nights?"

Jack's glare darkened. Chase could hear the creak of skin and bone. He knew it meant strong white hands had curled into fists. Instead of lashing out physically, Jack challenged his master verbally.

"You're getting at something, Chase. What is it?"

Chase uncrossed his legs and sat straight in his seat. "What I'm _getting at_ , Jack, is that you seem to be disconcertingly _cavalier_ about our 'relationship' as of late. That _irks_ me. After all, wasn't it _you_ who always pushed for more from me, _of_ me?"

He stood, then; gave in to his need to stalk his perceived prey as the sour-sulfur smell of Jack's fury and fear filled the air.

"When we were _nothing_ to each other, you pushed to be my _apprentice_ ," Chase stated, glaring the younger man down as he prowled closer. "When you were my _apprentice_ , you pushed to be my _Consort_. When you became both, you pushed to be my _lover_ , and I...? I _allowed_ it. I let you become all of these things to me because I was under the impression that you would never treat such allowances as if they were _nothing_. I was under the impression that you wouldn't grow _bored_ like a little _child_."

Standing beside Jack, Chase sneered down at him.

"I had thought you were _serious_ about this, Spicer. Yet, recently, I've been relegated to the same status as one of your little projects that you tinker with and drop on a whim on a shelf somewhere to gather dust. If _that_ is all our relationship is to you, if that is all the damn you care to give about _us_ , then I'm going to have to reevaluate every consideration I've given you – and you know how much I _dislike_ being so grievously wrong."

He watched the pink tinge on Jack's face deepen in color, though only a little bit. It was strange, given how vibrantly blushes showed on that perfect pale skin.

The observation scattered from Chase's attention when Jack abruptly surged to his feet. The chair he'd been seated in fell and clattered to the ground as he whirled to face his master, utterly enraged. Chase shifted his stance, ready to turn away whatever blows Jack might lash out with.

"Are you _serious?_ " the younger man spat. "Are you _fucking serious?!_ "

Chase met Spicer's gaze straight on. "I am."

"Well, so am I!" Jack shouted. "How could you even _say_ that I'm not?!"

It was a near thing. Jack narrowly avoided a life path in which Chase's clawed hand thunked into his chest to rip his still beating heart from his chest.

Instead, the Heylin lord held himself in check and replied, "What else am I meant to think when you seemingly no longer can stand the sight of me? Everything points to—"

" _Fuck you!_ "

Chase blinked and reared back, startled. The shriek Jack had let loose sounded like heartbreak.

"Fuck you for even _thinking_ that, Chase," Jack continued, his expression dark with anger and pain. "Jesus...! If it wouldn't break my hand, I'd punch you in the _face!_ Of course, I'd have a little trouble _finding_ it considering how far up your own ass your head seems to be!"

Chase glared back at his Consort. How _dare_ Spicer insult him so! _He_ was the wronged party, not Jack!

"I can't believe you think that _little_ of me, Chase," Spicer continued, his red eyes bright with unshed tears. "You're... you're fucking _everything_ to me, but I'm gone a couple days and all of a sudden, I'm, what... _bored_ of you?! That's bullshit – _you’re_ bullshit! That's not... that's not at _all_ what..."

Chase was on the very edge of smiting his Consort off the face of the Earth when he realized that Jack was struggling to speak; not because he couldn't find the words, but because of lack of _air_. Jack's gaze had gone unfocused and he was shaking his head, trying to speak even as his jaw dropped lower and lower, widening his mouth to bring in oxygen.

"...such a self-centered...! Can't believe... you'd... You're being an _ass!_ I'm _yours_. I'd... I'd _never_ —!”

His words broke and, apparently, his lungs along with them.

Chase watched in horror as Jack began to cough so violently he staggered on his feet. The albino man wheezed, his breath whistling through his strained throat in between coughs, and his attempt to cover his mouth and hunch over to control the spasms caused him to topple to the ground where he coughed until he retched… and then, coughed some more.

Unable to withstand seeing his Consort in such a state, Chase knelt down and drew Jack onto his lap. He cradled the young man against him even as he spread one hand beneath Spicer's back and urged energy into him that calmed his rattled lungs.

Jack relaxed into his hold, his head lolling up against the breastplate of Chase's armor. The relieved little gasp and sigh Jack gave at contact with the cool metal, and the fact that his flush was still barely visible, gave Chase the clues – the truth – he'd been looking for. He tested his new theory by bending to place his lips against Jack's forehead.

When he pulled away, feeling as if his lips had been burned to a crisp, he found a perfect print of his mouth amidst white paste. Rubbing his lips together, Chase felt a waxy coating on them.

"You're ill," Chase murmured, shocked to his core. He had been wrong about why Jack had been avoiding him. "You have a fever."

He settled Jack on the floor and shifted to raise one leg for Jack to lean against. Then, he took hold of Spicer's face in both hands and rubbed hard, smearing away the white make-up that had covered his Consort's skin. The faint tinge of pink became much more vibrant; darkened and darkened until it seemed that Jack's skin was more scarlet than white. The heat rising from his face, throat, and body was atrocious.

"You're ill," Chase reiterated, staring at his white-smeared gloves and Jack's flushed face. His Consort lay limp against him, panting for air. " _That’s_ what you've been hiding."

Jack huffed a breath and closed his eyes as he rasped out, "Yeah."

In that moment, Chase let the killing fury that had held him for days _go_. He curled forward, pulling Jack against him. He stroked Spicer's sweat-damp red hair; tucked his face in the heated curve of neck and shoulder.

"Jack," he said, grateful, relieved. " _Jack_."

He felt Spicer's hands twitch against him even as Jack's cough-husky voice said, "I'm sorry...? I mean... I didn't want you to know. I don't want _anyone_ to know because it looks bad and I'm not... not supposed to... But, shit, Chase, I never thought you'd think I was _bored_ of you. I'm not, I couldn't ever _be_ – if you want that in _writing_ or something, just—"

"Shut _up_ ," Chase ordered. Gods, all this time, Jack had been _sick_ , not betraying him with another. Gods, he'd come so close to dying horribly. _They_ had come so close to losing everything. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sick," Jack replied. "And... and I'm your apprentice, yeah? I've been part of high society my whole life, Chase. I know how big a deal projecting the 'right' image is. You're the most powerful man in the world. How does that look when your 'star pupil' gets taken down by a fucking flu? It's _embarrassing_ and I—"

Chase shifted to look at his Consort. Jack looked upset but for all the wrong reasons. He lifted his hand; a silent command to be silent and, thankfully, Jack did so.

"Correct me if I misheard," Chase stated, "but... you have the flu?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"It didn't really kick in until four days ago, so... this would be Day Four."

Chase gave his Consort a peevish glare. "So, you've been severely ill for _over_ seventy-two hours and you decided the best course of action was to _actively_ hide this from me?"

Jack winced at him. "It wasn't... that's 'cause—"

"Because it would _look bad_."

"It's _embarrassing_ ," Jack whined. "I couldn't even make a circuit board earlier 'cause my hands kept... I'm totally useless, even at the thing I'm supposed to be _best_ at."

Chase leaned back and looked down at the young man nestled against him. How could Jack have even thought this was a _good_ idea?

The silence grated on Spicer; enough for him to prod his master, and Chase shook his head in response.

"Sorry," he answered. "I'm attempting to reconcile the fact that my supposedly _genius_ Consort is actually a dangerously irresponsible _moron_."

Jack stared at him, surprised. "What?"

"You kept your illness a secret from your _overlord_ ," Chase snapped, his ire building again. "You risked your health in more than one way by arousing my suspicion and my wrath, and all because you didn't want it to reflect badly on me – a man notorious for caring less than nothing of what the peons of the world think!"

Jack opened his mouth to argue... and then, didn't, as his master's words filtered through his brain. He sagged back and blinked sheepishly up at Chase.

Chase snorted. "Moron," he repeated.

Jack winced, but said nothing.

Chase rolled his eyes upward, took a few calming breaths, and then relaxed to look down at his Consort again. "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. You set a precedent long ago for making terrible decisions in regard to your health."

Jack winced again. "I'm... sorry? I just... I thought I could handle it so you wouldn't have to be bothered."

Chase couldn't help rolling his eyes again before he stood, drawing Jack up onto his feet as well.

"Not merely a moron, but a fool as well," he sneered, and then bent to brace his shoulder against Jack's belly.

White hands clawed into his hair, pulling frantically as Jack groaned, "Noooo, please don't! I'm 'faking' another headache right now."

For an instant, Chase considered doing it anyway. The spiteful little jab about his misconceptions in regards to Jack's behavior aside, it would suffice as punishment for putting them both through this. Yet, he was loath to inflict _that_ much pain and pressure on his already suffering (and thankfully innocent) lover. Moreover, there was always the chance Jack could vomit from being placed in an unsavory position and Chase refused to scrub puke out of his hair.

Shifting away from the over-the-shoulder move, Chase stood upright again even as he cradled Jack into his arms, bridal style.

"Forgive me," he sneered, unable to resist a jab of his own. Jack had put him through a graceless hell of jealousy and pain the past few days. Taunts were the _least_ he deserved. "I'd thought you might object to being carried this way. Too embarrassing for you, perhaps?"

Jack groaned and tucked his head on the shelf of Chase's shoulder, pillowed against the pauldron covering the joint while hiding his fever-hot face against the older man's neck.

Chase snorted and began walking, carrying his lover out of the dining room and up to _their_ bedroom. Hells if Jack would stay separate from him!

They were nearly there when Jack fidgeted in his hold and muttered, "Okay, so... maybe the image thing wasn't... y'know... the whole reason I didn't say anything."

"Oh? Do tell." His tone dripped sarcastic condescension – a telling sign to drop it if ever there was one – but Jack took it as an invitation anyway. Either his Consort felt terribly guilty or he was deathly ill, or even a combination of the two.

"I've had what feels like a lifetime's worth of disdain from you already," Jack muttered. "The last thing I wanted from you was... not _pity_ , since you don't do that, but whatever your approximation of pity is. I mean, can you even _get_ sick?"

If Spicer hadn’t been so gravely ill, Chase would have dropped him on his ass there and then.

"An even _more_ foolish reason than merely keeping up appearances," he retorted, his tone curt. The door to their bedroom swung open at his approach and then slammed shut behind them as he carried Jack inside. "I can hardly fault you for succumbing to mortal illnesses given that you, yourself, are still mostly mortal. To answer your question: any illnesses I contract are supernatural in nature and it has been that way since I became Heylin."

"Fucking figures," Jack groused.

Chase plunked Jack down on the bed and set about removing the younger man's clothing.

"I can undress myself, y'know," Jack ventured.

"Can you, really?" Chase taunted. He unbuckled one heavy black boot and tossed it away. "Only minutes ago, I'd recklessly assumed you were capable of seeing to your own well-being – and we all know what assuming does."

He dodged the petulant kick Spicer gave as the younger man flopped back on the bed to scowl up at the ceiling. "I _said_ I was sorry! What _else_ do you want me to say? And, hey! For the record, I _was_ seeing to my well-being! Jesus, the fucking horse pills I was choking down and the doctor consultations and _everything_."

Chase removed the other boot and Jack's pants through the diatribe. When his Consort looked at him, he raised an eyebrow right back as more clues clicked into place.

" _That’s_ who you kept leaving to see," he stated; "a _doctor_."

"Family doctor," Jack agreed, and Chase went to work on stripping away the remainder of Jack's clothes. "Known the guy since I was three. Most doctors won't make house-calls anymore – especially not cross- _continent_ house-calls, but for a Spicer...? You bet your ass they will."

Chase flung the sweat-sodden clothes away. He'd have Diol or Bella or _somebody_ burn them later. He flicked a quick crackle of energy over Jack to clean away most of the sour dampness and frowned when Jack didn't even notice. He tugged the top sheet out from beneath his lover and tugged it up to keep Jack cozy.

"Stay," he ordered, and went to the bathroom to ransack his personal medicine cabinet.

"No need to tell me twice," he heard mumbled behind him.

It took only a few moments for him to locate what he needed amongst the many magically, hermetically sealed phials in the medicine cabinet. It had been a magistrate's jewelry box long ago, but Chase had taken a liking to the golden wood and jade-inset piece. He'd won it in a mahjongg match; taken it and the magistrate's head when the man had tried to welch on the bet. Since then, he'd kept his most precious things in the cabinet – and what was more precious than one's health?

Gathering what he needed, he closed the doors of eight-foot-tall cabinet and returned to where Jack had curled onto his side – decidedly _not_ in the position he'd left the young man.

"I told you to stay," he griped, and pushed Spicer over onto his back again.

"I _am_ staying," Jack griped back, and opened his eyes to look at the small jar Chase set down on the bedside table. "What's that?"

Chase settled Jack neatly beneath the covers and his head on the pillow before uncorking the jar. The scent of magic and herbs filled his nose. He stripped off his gloves, dipped two long fingers into the jar, and said "See for yourself" as he spread the purple tincture across the skin of Jack's forehead.

A silent enchantment and the force of Chase's will set the potion into Jack's skin. The mixture sank in and dissipated, leaving nothing behind.

A moment later, Jack's attempt at speaking dissolved into a garbled warble of relief as the pain of the migraine that had been building was taken away.

"I _knew_ you'd have the good shit," Jack groaned. "Aspirin was barely making a fucking dent, the last day or two."

"Yes," Chase agreed, re-corking the bottle to preserve the remaining liquid. "Just think: you could have had this _four days ago_ if you hadn't been so pigheaded."

"Am I ever gonna live this down?" Jack demanded to know. "Be honest."

"Unlikely," Chase retorted. So very, _very_ unlikely. What Jack had done to his master in his ignorance was _not_ something that would be let go of easily. "Certainly not in the next week or so."

Spicer sighed. "Guess I'm lucky I've literally got the rest of forever to try, then."

At that, Chase stilled. Jack had... he really had no idea how close he’d come to losing forever. He had no idea how close he’d come to being _eviscerated_ to sate the hate and broken heart of a monster.

"....Chase?" Jack prompted, and the dragon lord blinked and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"Nothing," he lied. "I suppose I'm... impressed. Against my will, mind you."

"Impressed? By what?"

"You," Chase replied, giving him the truth this time. "You managed to hide your illness from me for four... no, six days? The symptoms began six days ago, yes?"

"Yeah. I tried to head it off, hoping it was just a stomach bug, but... nope; flu. It came in fast and hard four days ago. And don't take it so hard," Jack cajoled. "It wasn't even _close_ to easy. I self-medicated to keep the symptoms down and slathered on the make-up so I wouldn't look abnormal around you, but I still had to make myself scarce. Guess how long it took you to put it together?"

Chase scowled. "Four days. Prior to that, I simply thought you had a project you were working on."

"Two hours," Jack corrected. "I tried to keep off your radar until I was better, but it only took two hours of being in the same room for you to catch on and totally bust me."

Jack was a better actor than he gave himself credit for. Chase had only caught him out because Jack had succumbed to his illness in front of him. Still, Chase appreciated the pandering to his ego. He stood; stripped away his armor and clothes, and then climbed into bed to join his lover. He was very pleased when Jack snuggled up against him, fully and honestly eager to be with him once again. The sound Jack made when Chase curled his arm around him further mollified him and eased whatever nagging doubts had plagued him even up until then.

Chase trailed his fingertips over Jack's shoulder, idly noting the heat that continued to rise from the white skin. "I suppose that explains the showers."

"Huh?"

"The excessive showering," Chase explained.

"It wasn't _excessive_."

"Three or more times per _day?_ "

Jack muttered and tucked his face down against his lover's chest again.

Chase smirked. "Still, it makes perfect sense to shower that much if you didn't want me to smell your sickness."

"Uh... yeah," Jack replied. "That... would've been a really great idea, actually."

Chase scowled. "Then what...? It wasn't intentional?"

"It was – but not for scent reasons! My temperature wouldn't stay in one place!" Spicer objected. "I kept getting chills and warm water felt good for those; got my temp back up to normal. But then, the fever would rise and I'd be too _hot_ , and cold water put it _down_ to normal. I kept flip-flopping. Plus, y'know, I felt gross with all the sweating. Ick."

Clearly, Spicer had been born under eight lucky stars to have made it this far. Chase said as much while also getting in another insult.

Jack laughed against him and Chase relished the sound.

"I didn't think I'd get away with it this long," Jack confessed. "There were times I was holding back a cough or an up-chuck, and I could feel the face paint sweating off, so I had to hurry out. I could've _sworn_ you were onto me 'cause they weren't graceful exits in the least. I just ran and hoped you wouldn't follow me. Guess I was pretty lucky, there."

Chase shook his head. "It wasn't luck. I miscalculated."

Jack shifted to look up at him. "Miscalculated?"

"I _was_ on to you," Chase confessed. "I knew you were hiding something. I never went after you because I was angry where instead I should have been concerned."

"Angry... that you thought I wasn't feeling the spark with you anymore?"

Chase tensed against the memories of his murderous fantasies. "Angry because I thought you were 'feeling the spark' with someone else. I thought you were having an affair."

The horrified, broken look on Jack's face was far more of a balm to Chase's hurt than anything else could have been. " _What?_ "

"Were you not aware of what your behavior looked like?" he snapped, chastising the younger man. "Avoiding me, sleeping in a different room at night, leaving at odd times each day – _that_ one, in particular, was attention catching because of how rarely you left the palace prior to this whole mess."

"Chase," Jack breathed, wide-eyed in his shock.

The dragon lord shook his head. "The showering didn't help your case, either. It seemed as if you were trying to scrub the stench of another off your skin. It seemed as if you had something to _hide_. You did, of course, but you concealed the only _innocent_ explanation for your behavior."

Jack sat up so he could look down at his master. He was horrified, upset, and desperate – a beautiful thing to see after what Chase had suffered the past few days.

"Oh, my God... _Chase_. You really _did_ think... Holy shit. I didn't. I would _never_. You – Chase – You're... Fuck, I _wouldn’t_. You have to know that I wouldn't, not now or _ever!_ "

"You have to know what it _looked like_ ," Chase countered. "I hear you now, and your reaction is a solid assurance that you won't ever, but can you not _see_ what it looked like without having prior knowledge of your illness? Can you not imagine what it was doing to me to think that _I_ was not enough for you?"

Jack bent to drape himself over his lover. He clung to the older man, his ear pressed to Chase's chest to hear the heart hammering strong and fast within. "I'd have to be brain damaged or mind-controlled to even _want_ to step out on you. Never mind that it would be suicide to cross you like that. I choose life, thanks."

"I'll keep that in mind," Chase replied, amused and relieved. "Jack... don't assume I naturally considered you to be untrustworthy, like when you were a child. I'm centuries old and one of the reasons for my longevity is my paranoia. It has served me well in keeping me alive. I'm too quick and too keen to spot signs of shenanigans going on around me."

Jack snorted a laugh. "'Shenanigans'."

Chase slapped the back of Jack's head, and then nestled his palm there to stroke and soothe at the grumbling complaint Spicer let loose.

Settling down against his lord and lover, Jack said, "I get that. But... you didn't follow me. You _couldn’t_ have been watching to see where I was going, either, because then you'd have known what the reason for it was and would have called me out on it sooner. Why didn't you?"

"Spy on you? I should have."

"But you _didn’t_."

Chase sighed. He stroked his fingers down one sleek, white arm. "If you _had_ been... I didn't want to see it."

"You wouldn't have, though."

"Yes, I _realize_ that. But when there was a possibility that it _might_ happen, I couldn't bring myself to see the evidence directly. _I didn't want to see it_. But... I couldn't simply ignore your behavior. I can tolerate no insult, not even from you, and I won't sit by and let anyone make a fool of me – _especially_ not you."

He watched Jack frown against his chest. "So, you confronted me instead, trying to make me slip up so you could catch me in the lie."

"And so I did – only it wasn't the lie I was expecting. As much as I dislike you being so dangerously ill, I have to admit I'm much happier that it was you hiding an illness and not a new lover. I'm glad you have more respect for your overlord and your life than to give your body to another behind my back."

"Never gonna happen," Jack promised again. "Everything I am is yours, Chase. And... and even if I was _stupid_ enough to... I'd probably kill myself for having had you and then fucking it up for somebody... not-you."

Chase grinned, and then laughed. "You have a way with words, Jack."

He kissed Jack before his Consort could sass him. It had been days since he'd gotten a kiss from the younger man; the last was just before Spicer had begun actively avoiding him in a suspicious manner. Then, as now, he took the kiss – and pulled away with a lick of his lips as he tasted Jack and a curious new flavor.

Chase stroked his tongue across the roof of his mouth, spreading the flavor for a moment, and then wrinkled his nose. "That's another reason I suspected you of infidelity: you taste strange."

Red eyes blinked at him in surprise. "Strange how?"

The dragon lord shook his head. "I haven't been able to put my finger on it. It isn't a common flavor."

"Ehhhh... cough drops, maybe? I was popping 'em like candy the first day or two, but I brushed my teeth pretty thoroughly."

" _Also_ suspicious," Chase pointed out.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Trying to get rid of a _medicinal_ taste, not a _seminal_ one."

Chase ignored the rudeness of his lover's sour tone and eyeroll. "The artificial flavoring... yes, you might be on to something." He took another kiss from Jack – though, given the younger man's eagerness, 'took' was perhaps too strong a word. He drew away and smirked. "Yes, that's it – eucalyptus oil."

"Which... that's in cough drops?"

Chase nodded. "In small quantities. Normally, I'd not have noticed, but if you were eating them like _candy_..."

"Okay, so there: mystery solved," Jack blurted out. "Is that the last one or did I do anything else you need clearing up on just so you're absolutely certain I am neither losing interest in you _or_ cheating on you?"

The Heylin lord glared at his Consort. "You wouldn't have needed to clear _anything_ up if you'd been straightforward with me in the first place!" At Jack's pained wince, Chase sighed and interrupted before Spicer could argue with him. "However... I will admit that your failing is not the only one in this incident. I was suspicious, yes, but I should have called you on it sooner. If I had, we'd have both been spared suffering."

Seeing his lover's incredulous look, Chase snorted and clarified.

"I spent far too long thinking you might actually have grown tired of me," he explained. "You have spent days with a severe illness. Neither of which needed to go on so long if you had not failed your duty to me, and if I had not failed my duty to you. The only thing I hate more than being wrong is failure. _This_... nothing even remotely _like_ this is going to happen again. Do you understand that?"

Chase hoped Jack understood. Failure meant destruction; their relationship had nearly been destroyed because Jack had failed to report his illness to his overlord. They had nearly been ruined because Chase had failed to protect his Consort from his own idiocy, his mortality, and his overlord's possessive, jealous paranoia.

When Jack smiled at him and said, "Not gonna happen again," Chase heard the truth of it in the younger man's tone. Jack _understood_ , and he accepted it all.

Chase ignored his urge to do completely filthy, sexy things to his very ill lover. Instead, he smirked and murmured, "So glad we understand each other."

"Uh-huh," Jack agreed. "Speaking of understanding..."

Chase looked at him and waited.

"I'd just like to put it out there that if this whole 'secret flu' thing is allowed to slide, I would be more than willing to never bring up the fact that Chase Young ever went off on something half-cocked."

Chase considered the proposal. He knew Jack would never throw him under the metaphorical bus; would never expose a weakness to their enemies. While Chase could certainly handle any idiotic, childish taunting that would emerge, he was less unperturbed about the fact that their enemies would target Jack with extreme prejudice in an attempt to weaken him.

Jack undoubtedly knew this, so the proposal was one geared to getting his overlord to stop nagging him about his less-than-intelligent plan of trying to hide his illness from him.

In short: if Chase dropped the subject of _Jack’s_ colossal mistake, then Jack would drop the subject of _Chase’s_ colossal mistake.

Chase sighed. He wanted nothing more than to torture Jack a little more for the frustration and hurt the younger man had put him through, but neither did he want his face rubbed in his own failure. It would seem they had each other by the short hairs.

He touched his fingers to Jack's forehead for a few moments, testing the temperature he found there, and nodded. "You still have a fever; only thirty-eight degrees now, but it was much higher before. With a temperature that high, you couldn't have been in your right mind and who can say how long your decision-making was impaired?"

Jack's grin was full of amusement and exhaustion. "It's a good thing I've got you around to keep me from doing stupid shit."

On that, Chase could agree wholeheartedly. "You're a _very_ lucky man."

"Yeah," Spicer replied, snuggling down against his overlord, "I really am."

Tucking blankets around them, Chase soothed his sick lover to sleep and resolved to watch over him much more carefully.

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Crystallic Sky wanted a Chase POV version of her Crayola series story “Eucalyptus” as a birthday present. It is roughly… _THREE MONTHS_ late, but here it is, finally! It was either this or an AU of Jack being a Gregorian Monk back in the day, getting seduced by Chase. This was easier. *sheepish* Anyhoo: Beta’d by the birthday girl. =D
> 
> **Disclaimer:** _Xiaolin Showdown_ is not mine. It is the property of its creator, Christy Hui, and attendant television networks. I am making no money off of this fanfiction.


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